


The perfect time for a wine

by royalblve



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Andres thinks he's a poet, Attempt at Humor, Emotional Hurt, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, Light Smut, Love Confessions, M/M, Martin is soft af with the love of his life, Nairobi and Martin are besties change my mind, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:06:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24475468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royalblve/pseuds/royalblve
Summary: He was complex and yet simple, a personality that was explosive but also controlled. And that, that was what Andrés appreciated so much about him, not just his honesty and intelligence. But also everything that Martin meant in soul and body kept him down to earth in some way.
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa & Palermo | Martín Berrote, Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 26
Kudos: 122





	1. The stars are sad

The mind works in a wonderful way, and Andres believed that Martin's mind was the most special one in the world. Everytime he walked into a room, he brightened that room just with his spirit.

Of course Martin felt the same way when it came to his dear friend, but let's say he felt it in a more passionate and romantic way.

Because while Andres loved only his intelligence, Martin loved everything about him. Every single flaw, every single thing was just spectacular to him.

The engineer just dedicated his life to enjoy the friendly touches his partner in crime gave him, like he did from the beginning.

"Falling in love with your best friend who is also very straight and had five divorces" the woman whispered and let out the smoke of the cigarette. "You're out of your mind"

Martin smiled sadly "I know" Nairobi passed him the cigarette and he grabbed it to give it a a soft puff.

"You think he would understand?"

He let out the smoke just like she did before him and watched it disappear. Martin wanted to be that smoke and disappear forever.

Nairobi gave him a look that he didn't know how to swallow.

"Well... I'm not a fortune teller or some shit like that, corazón"

He let out a short laugh nodding and gave one more puff to the cigarette to return it to her.

The night was incredibly peaceful at 2 am and Martin knew it from experience as he never sleeps in the same time as the others. They say that a person needs to sleep at least 8 hours to be okay, but Martin was never really okay. So it didn't make a difference.

He simply said goodbye with a "Good night" and then went to his room to read or write in absolute silence, sometimes humming an odd tune.

Precisely that night was different from the others, because he decided to go out for a beer outside and found that someone else couldn't sleep either.

She seemed lost in thought and despite the fact that Martín was characterized by not being very liked among his companions, the woman had a certain affection for him.

They started talking and she ended up telling him what was wrong. She had a fight with Tokyo before going to sleep and the other woman had gone mad, hurling words that hurted Nairobi. Among them, that the plan to look for his son was not worth it, and that he already had parents who loved him.

In this situation, Martín only saw two options: help her or run.

Despite the fact that the second option looked tempting and, in addition, Martín was a professional in the art of running away from every complication in his life, he ended up choosing the first option, the poor woman only wanted a little support and he couldn't be such an ass with her.

Between words and a teardrop, they ended up talking about Martín and his loving disappointments, something he tried to avoid. But after all, ended up being the topic of the conversation.

The engineer didn't know if what made him talk had been the insomnia or the simple fact of needing to talk to someone about it. Either of the two, had made his mouth spit out the pure truth to someone who probably did not care.

But hey! It felt good and Martín was only thankful that the woman hadn't looked at him with a bad face when he told her everything.

All about what Andres meant to him, how he wished he could have the courage to tell him about his feelings. But the other felt everything, except love. And Martin knew that very well.

"How about we continue the conversation inside? the weather is getting cold"

Nairobi's voice brought him to the present like an anchor in the sea, which stopped him from swimming deep into his thoughts.

He just nodded, getting up from the floor where they sat down to share a beer and a cigarette. It felt like the stars had been watching them all along and now they were sad that they were leaving.

When they reached Martin's room, they both entered, closing the door softly, if the Professor saw them awake, he would kill them both. They were supposed to be focused and resting well since there would be a long class that day.

"There are things that shouldn't be said I suppose, I feel that it will ruin everything I have with him"

He dropped onto the soft bed and she followed him.

"How long have you known him?"

Martín closed his eyes at the question.

"Ten years"

He was met with silence.

"I know, it's stupid, that I never said anything to him"

"So you fell in love with him from the first moment.. that's the most tender thing I ever heard in my life"

She said smiling and causing him to calm down.

"As I already told you, I doubt that he feels it in the same way, he only sees me as his best friend"

He look at her opening his eyes. 

"You can never know, who knows if he ends up wanting you in the same way"

She looked at him and both shared a smile.

"You can never be sure with Berlin anyway, the guy is hard to understand"

Martín laughed for his comment.

"Maybe you should try to let him know about your true feelings"

Oh, Nairobi made it sound like the easiest thing in the whole universe, but it was not even a little easy. Martín did not want to imagine what would happen if Andres doesn't feel the same for him. He would probably die of anguish, drowning himself in soft seas of sadness.

Martín had relationships, of course, but he never fell in love, and less in the heartbreaking way in which he fell in love with Andres.

His "relationships" consisted of only one night, short nights where someone fucked him and he tried not to moan his friend's name. Pathetic.

"Yes, of course, and then I'll cry because I won't be reciprocated"

He got up after saying that, he was sure that he had more alcohol in his room and that he hadn't drink it all already.

He walked to the piece of furniture he had, looking there and found empty bottles.

Nairobi looked at him curiously.

"What are you looking for? Your heterosexuality?"

Martín laughed denying and walked back to the bed to kneel down and look under it. He smiled when he found two bottles of wine.

"Malbec?"

He said looking at her and she smiled.

"I do not believe it, Mr. Palermo has a delicate taste, what a surprise"

He laughed and opened one of the bottles to take a sip from it. "Hey, share!"

-

They were drinking and Martín realized that it got out of hand when he saw that they were in the middle of the second bottle. How did this happen?

"Hey Palermo, kiss my ass" The woman said dancing on the bed visibly drunk.

He got out of bed with difficulty and looked at the clock on his wrist trying to focus his eyes to see the time, when he did it after a few hard seconds, he opened his eyes. 5 am already.

"N-Nairobi"

He turned and she jumped from the bed, going down and hugged him starting to dance and sing a bit too loud.

"Come on, dance with me!" Martín couldn't help but laugh and follow her, they couldn't call that a dance.

"Wait, wait! Let me try something," she said, laughing and then jumping into Palermo's arms, he laughed audibly.

The door opened abruptly and Palermo released Nairobi, letting her fall to the ground. She let out a groan of pain and looking up he saw Andrés looking at them with his arms crossed.

"I've been knocking on the door for 3 minutes, I'm sorry to open it like this"

He said without being really sorry, words of courtesy.

"B-Berlin, did something happen?"

Palermo stopped to see that Andrés had messy hair and was using one of his robes that looked expensive, probably they were. He looked gorgeous under Martin's blurred gaze. Well, he always looked beautiful to Martin.

"In case you didn't see, it's 5 in the morning and I think you've woke everyone up with your little party"

He said serious and Martin looked at Nairobi who was trying to get up from the ground without success.

Berlin sighed and shook his way into the room to help her. "Go to your room and rest, Nairobi."

"Yes, yes, are you on a hurry or what?"

He looked at her with a blank face and Martín opened his eyes when he felt his lips against the woman's. Martín stood still in his place not knowing how to react until she parted smiling.

"Good night, Palermo"

Martín thought that the alcohol made him imagine things, but the woman winked at him.

"Okay, the show is over, everyone to their room"

Palermo felt a soft electric current through his back when he heard that Andrés' voice was hoarse and low.

She obeyed and almost fell on the way, so Andrés said he would accompany her.

He watched them walk out the door and then noticed the mess in the room, he sighed as he arranged a few things. He still felt his head spinning but it seems that the one that drinked the most, was Nairobi.

Martín smiled to himself, she is insane. What did she tried to prove with that kiss? She already knows that Martín is the gayest person on earth.

"You like her" Martín almost jumped by Andrés's voice behind him, making him stop cleaning the place. He had totally forgotten that Nairobi's room was nearby.

Turning, he saw him leaning against the door frame. His face calm but seemed to have questions at the same time.

"She is very sweet, and also very funny"

Andrés approached the two bottles of wine on the floor without hearing what Martín had said. He grabbed them.

"Malbec, these are the bottles that I gave you"

Martín closed his eyes for an instant, how could he forget that.

"Erm .. yes, I'm sorry I drank it with her, I didn't think about it much"

"It doesn't matter, Palermo"

Palermo, that name sounded exquisite every time it rolled in Andrés' tongue and Martín felt his head telling him to calm down. He felt like he would say something stupid because of the alcohol in his system.

"Wine is the only work of art that you can drink, isn't that beautiful?"

He was silent watching as he grabbed the bottle they had left unfinished and couldn't help but smile a little at the other's smile.

"Keep this little bit at least, when the time is perfect, we'll drink it together"

They stared at each other and Martín licked his lips when he realized that he was silent.

"Sure"

Andrés got closer to him and left the bottle in Martín's hands to go to the door and close it. The Argentine looked at him confused.

"Didn't you wanted to sleep?"

He asked curiously.

Andrés laughed softly.

"If I tell you the truth, I have a couple of doubts"

Martín looked at him attentively.

"I see that you and Nairobi were having fun, as more than just friends ..." Martín laughed at that accusation.

Andrés began to walk closer to him.

"It's a joke, right?"

"No"

Martín looked at him when he saw his serious gaze.

"Berlin, you know that I am the most homosexual man that exists"

Then, he realized something, why was Andres asking that?

"Wait, but why do you care?"

Andrés's gaze locked on his.

"Curiosity"

Martín smiled a little "It feels like jealousy" he joked wishing it was true.

Andrés laughed denying "I just wanted to know if you had suddenly become straight"

"Nope, I still suck penises"

Andrés laughed softly again and Martin's heart melted.

"Fine, fine, I'm leaving" he held up his hands.

Martin smiled nodding. He didn't want him to go, but he couldn't stop him.

He gave him one last look and closed the door once he got out.

Marti dropped onto the bed, he was tired and his head still hurted a little. When he closed his eyes, his last thought before falling asleep was Andrés.


	2. The beauty of things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> basically Andres talking about a lot of things and Martin trying his best to understand him.

Martín would like to wake up like the princesses in the movies, with the soft singing of birds and the sun slipping through the curtains, resting directly on his closed eyes.

But Martin's life was not a movie, instead he woke up with a dry mouth, last night's clothes still on and a horrible headache.

Really poetic.

He looked at his wrist to see the time and growled when he saw that it was 8:40 in the morning, he crawled to the edge of the bed to stand up and with tired steps he reached the bathroom.

He looked at himself in the mirror and his reflection seemed dead, he sighed and brushed his teeth to get into the shower minutes later. The temperature of the water was relaxing against Martin's skin, he stayed longer than he should and then he came out with the towel around his waist looking for clothes to wear. He opted for a simple look, a black shirt and jeans just as dark.

He saw that there were still things lying on the floor and he perfectly remembered everything that happened last night, he had confessed his sins to Nairobi. Incredible decision, so incredible that Martín wished it didn't happen.

He took his alarm clock, seeing that it was not broken by the fall, and gathered a couple of books that were also lying on the floor. He sighed and looked at the wine bottle that still had some of the liquid and thought of Andrés' words.

He grabbed it to keep it under the bed, he felt that it belonged under his bed where no one would break or see it.

Something he wishes he could do with his heart, hide it in a place where it could never be seen or broken again.

Martín knew all his life how to pretend that he saw Andrés with friendly eyes, he did it since he realized that he would never have an opportunity to be loved by the man. Martín felt talented, powerful when he could deceive his friend about his feelings.

Martín felt like Harry Houdini.

But, even the greatest illusionists suffer from a failed act. And this time it was his turn to suffer it. Somehow he had let himself be seen by someone, he had opened his heart in a melancholy night therefore, his failed act was just beginning.

With a long sigh, he searched on his nightstand for a pill to alieve the headache that the shower couldn't. He walked to his door to go out and shut it behind him.

The closer he got to the kitchen, the more he heard several laughs coming from outside. He entered and found that it was empty. Martín wasn't surprised since normally everyone has breakfast outside at eight in the morning and it was almost nine. He went to the sink to fill a glass of water and took the pill.

After pouring himself a necessary amount of coffee into a cup, he headed outside.

"I tried to wake her up like seven times, there's no way"

Martín arrived at the table and their eyes fell on him.

"At least you did wake up, not like your friend Nairobi"

Denver laughed with his stupid laugh after saying that, everyone joined in his laugh and the engineer sat at the table without even looking at the side of who he sat down. He didn't care either, with the hangover and the sleep, the least he cared about was who he would have by his side for the rest of breakfast.

"You look tired"

The soft voice of Helsinki made him turn his face, Martín gave the Serbian a smile and nodded softly. Helsinki was with him the best he got along and he had realized how he looked at him.

"I am, and I'm still a bit hung over," he sighed and drank some of his coffee, hearing that the others were deep in their conversations.

Helsinki laughed and took a sip from his mug "Nairobi is worse than you, when she wakes up she will look dead"

Martín remembered the woman and smiled a little.

"If I'm tired I can't imagine how she will be, I'm sure she took more than me"

Helsinki just laughed softly and Martin concentrated about finishing his cup of coffee.

Andrés was not in the table, he was away from the group, having breakfast and drawing on his notebook while he rested on one of the garden benches. That's why Martin felt empty, because he hadn't heard his voice since he sat down. There was nothing that could sink Martín in such a pleasant peace more than Andrés's voice, more than his presence.

Nairobi came to the table after several minutes and the group's mocking voices grew loud, causing Martin's head to ache.

"It was time for you to wake up!"

Denver laughed once again and Nairobi gave him a soft, tired punch and sat down.

Everyone kept talking and now Helsinki was talking to Nairobi cheerfully. Martín looked at Andrés again and saw him as peace in the middle of the storm.

He got up from the table away from there since they were all talking together and it made him want to kill himself. He could even say that his ears were bleeding.

Crowds were not his thing.

The further away he went, the calmer the atmosphere was. Without saying anything, he sat next to the man who radiated peace, took a look at the notebook and saw that he was painting the large tree in the garden.

On the bench was a small plate of fruit and a cup of coffee, half of which still had a little steam. Indicating that it was not entirely cold.

Oh the silence, the beautiful and peaceful silence that made Martin's soul sleep inside his chest with tranquility.

Martín closed his eyes, letting himself be carried away by the beautiful sound of the leaves of the tree dancing in the breeze and Andrés's brush moving on the paper. If he had to say where he wanted to be after dying, it would be this precise moment, living it over and over again to infinity.

"The beauty of things exists in the spirit of those who contemplate them"

Martin's headache was gone forever upon hearing that voice. His eyelids fluttered open and eyes collided with the tree in front of them.

He turned his face to contemplate the profile of his friend.

"Do you believe that?"

Andrés smiled.

"David Hume believed that"

Then Martin wonders "Who the hell is David Hume?" He doesn't know, hell. He has no idea!

"Do you know who he is, Martín?"

His voice was low, almost a whisper making sure no one heard Palermo's real name come from his lips.

"Well, you already know about my little knowledge about everything you like"

Andrés could take that as an insult, as he does not care about his tastes. But it was the opposite. Instead he laughed softly.

"He was a Scottish philosopher, economist, and historian and is in fact one of the most important figures in Western philosophy and Scottish Enlightenment"

Martín nodded even though he wasn't looking at him.

"He thought that the only thing that men can know about things are representations, and that all the contents of the mind come from experience. He only saw admissible as really grounded knowledge those representations that can be reduced to experience."

He put his brush aside for a moment and drank some of his coffee, with Martin's expectant gaze on him. As usual.

"Hume reduced all our knowledge to perceptions, that is, to mental representations that have their origin in the senses. He fundamentally distinguished two kinds of perceptions, impressions, which are vivid and intense and ideas, weak and blurred. The reason that ideas are weaker perceptions than impressions is because they are copies "

Martín loved hearing him speak, and even more when he understood. And when he finally understood something of what Andes was saying, he did not miss the opportunity to show him.

"So basically ideas are copies of impressions." He said. "The impressions penetrate the mind through the senses and are very intense, while the ideas penetrate the mind through reason and memory so their strength is less"

"Exactly"

Andrés finally turned to look him in the eyes to say that. Eyes that showed everything and at the same time nothing. But they were so special and Martín knew that he only showed them to him.

The painter's fingers grabbed a strawberry from the small plate and brought it to his mouth. Martin did not eat anything with his coffee and had only recently realized it.

He didn't care about eating that much lately.

"You can eat if you want, or do I have to force you to eat?"

Martin laughed at that and saw Andrés direct a strawberry to his mouth which he wanted to oppose but ended up letting him.

He was feeding him fruit, this was definitely the heaven he wanted to be in. Andrés returned to give him another strawberry as if he wanted to make him gain weight again.

"Why did you choose that tree to paint?" He asked after swallowing the fruit, if he spoke with his mouth full, Andrés would probably hit him.

"Because it's my favorite"

He watched as he gave a couple more brushstrokes on the notebook paper. "When we think about art, we generally think about a painting in a museum where we find works that are exposed for an audience to contemplate. In some way it is like a sacred space"

Martin grabbed Andrés' mug as he spoke and took a sip of the coffee.

"However, art is something less sacred, more common and closer to us because it's present wherever we look. It is simply in front of us, showing us the scope of human imagination and creativity."

Martin put the cup down and saw that Andres had finished the painting, it was beautiful.

"Art does not bother to say anything, it directly executes. It makes use of the freedom to create something that didn't exist before and installs it in front of us."

"I like how you used the colors, it is a very beautiful painting"

"There is a theory of color" He said turning to Martin "It is a group of basic rules in color mixing to achieve the desired effect by combining light or pigment colors"

Martín raised his eyebrows "Wasn't it easier to say thanks?"

Both laughed softly, Andrés's smile being the vitamins for Martín since unthinkable times.

"You never liked hearing me speak" He pretended to be angry.

"Shut up and kiss me" Martín said closing his eyes and throwing exaggerated kisses in a mocking way, which brought out another soft laugh from his friend.

"You drank all my coffee"

Martín stopped laughing to sigh.

"You said I could"

Andrés looked at him.

"I would rather like you to eat instead of just drink coffee"

Yes, Martín wanted to have an appetite too, but it was just something that didn't make him want to.

"What are you going to do? Feed me again like a spoiled child?"

He thought "Maybe"

When Martin was about to say something, Andres was already feeding him like a hamster. "You are going to make me choke with so much fruit" He said with difficulty and Andrés let out a soft "mhm" until the plate was empty.

"This is how you should eat everyday"

If it wasn't Andrés, he probably would have already insulted him and spit the fruit in his face for giving him orders.

But how do you say "no" to the love of your life? It's impossible, it is as if your head was automatically programmed to say yes to everything.

Martín saw the moment when Andrés became Berlin as he approached the table where the group was. It was amazing how he could change so drastically, when he was with him and when he was with the group.

A sigh escaped his lips looking at the tree again, and Martín felt grateful, because despite the fact that most of the time he did not understand what was going on in Andrés's head, at least he had the opportunity to go inside and try to.

Andrés treated him differently.

He felt blessed, privileged because no one else received that attention. Just him. And he hoped it would be like this forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this took so long! I'll try uploading more frequently <3


	3. I'll die in Paris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> changing the rating to Mature after this chapter akdnknd there's angst too, so with that said, enjoy!

Yes, yes, Martín is in love with his best friend but the most pathetic thing in this story is the fact that he was at Andrés's five weddings and that both are already adults. That is pathetic. Martín is an adult but he lived for ten years chasing the same guy as if he was a sixteen-year-old boy who cannot control himself when seeing breasts.

 _I'm the damn reincarnation of pathos_ , thought the engineer, and he couldn't be more correct.

There are people who need just a few weeks to get over something, well for Martin the two weeks that have passed since he spoke with Nairobi, let's say they were pretty useless. Same feelings, same thoughts, same telltale heart that crawls bleeding from so many hits it received. As it has always been.

"Come on, do a dance, you're looking really handsome" Nairobi encouraged Denver and everyone laughed when he started to make dance moves, all except Martin who watched everything from his chair dedicating himself to drink his beer in silence.

"You look incredibly stupid." Denver acted like receiving that insult from his father hurted him. For the first time in his life, Martin wanted to get up and congratulate Moscow for saying what he had wanted to say since the party began.

Oh yes, the party was because of someone's birthday, and that someone was Oslo. To be honest, Martín did not know him at all. But he appreciated the food and drink.

Nairobi laughed and returned to the table to grab a sandwich. When she saw him there she simply denied. "You get up now and come dance with me" She almost spit out a piece of the sandwich when she spoke with her mouth full.

"I'm fine here, Nairobi" he denied, smiling sideways. The woman had achieved that Martín had a soft spot for his relationship with her, it was incredible before the eyes of others.

"Shut up and dance" She lifted him from the chair almost dragging him to where the others were enjoying the party.

"Come on, one step forward one step back!" Martín stepped on her feet several times, dancing was the worst thing he could be forced to do... and well, sleeping with a woman. "Damn, you have less coordination than Berlin"

He couldn't help but laugh at the woman's comment "Did you see him dance?" He questioned moving next to her.

Nairobi smiled. "Of course not, but with the face that he carries with him all the time it seems that he is a piece of wood at the dance floor" They both laughed.

Nairobi had not said a single word to anyone that he and Andrés had known each other before and Martin was eternally grateful. If someone in the group found out, it meant Andres would find out that Nairobi knows something and would start asking her questions. It would drive her crazy until she accidentally tells everything about his unrequited love.

"Speaking of Berlin, have you seen him?" He questioned and she nodded.

"If I remember correctly, he was here until a few moments ago but he went inside" Martín nodded in the same way when she replied.

They danced for a while and Moscow approached them to ask Nairobi to dance with him, to which she agreed with an overload of tenderness. Moscow was like the second father to everyone. For Palermo, he was basically his only father since his real father left him because he was gay. His real father was just dust from dead memories.

A volatile dust that somehow always managed to sneak into his mind in unthinkable times.

"I'll let you guys dance in peace" They both smiled and Nairobi nodded looking at him to go dance.

Once again Martín was looking for Andrés. He was looking for him like a small dog looking for the ball his owner threw at him. Effusive, needed by that feeling of protection knowing that Andrés is always in control of everything around him. Martin always needed that security.

When he entered the house, it didn't take him long to find him, he was in the living room pouring himself a glass of wine and he was heading towards the exit, if Martín entered a few seconds later that same wine would probably have ended up staining Andrés's clothes or his own. Neither of those were good.

"Berlin, I was just looking for you" he smiled and the other looked at him walking to the exit, returning the smile.

"I know, you can't be without me because you get bored with them"

Palermo laughed. "Well maybe" he walked next to him.

Andrés raised his eyebrows walking calmly and took his free hand to his pants pocket while with the other hand he held the glass. "Maybe?"

Martín didn't want to confess who he hated and who he loved in the band, particularly because it would serve as material for problems. They stopped before going out into the garden. "Well, yes, I get bored with them" Martín sighed and Andres' laughter almost made him melt.

"Come to my room, we can have a drink and talk, what do you think? Since you never complained about boredom with me" He walked back to the living room to grab the bottle of wine.

Palermo was so aware of the fact that any proposal that came out of Andrés's mouth was in the field of friends, that he was not even excited about it.

Upon arrival Martín smiled when he saw all the paintings adorning the walls and giving it a special touch, the room shouted talent in every corner. In this month that had passed he had not been able to have the opportunity to enter and spend time with Andrés, they didn't want to raise any suspicion and Sergio had made it quite clear that they had to maintain a profile of strangers who are just getting to know each other, basically.

"It shows that it's your room with all of this" He pointed at all the art supplies.

Andrés smiled. "At least mine is ordered"

Martín looked at him at that and crossed his arms. "Thats rude, mine is ordered too, sometimes I don't order as much but it is clean"

Andrés denied smiling slightly.

**•••**

"You never told me about your love disappointments"

"My love disappointments?" He repeated looking at the ceiling while he was lying on Andrés's bed, so soft and comforting that he felt he would sink and touch the floor. "I think you're pretty informed about it already." He ran a finger along the rim of his glass.

Silence, complete silence as if the words were stuck in his friend's throat. At that moment Martín realized that he never had the support of Andrés when his heart was broken, but he was always in each of his friend's divorces, in all of them.

Palermo took a breath and released it to look at him, seeing that he had sat next to him on the bed. "You already know that I never had anything serious, it was just one night things"

 _Where I was just thinking about you._ those words never came out.

Finally, Andrés's voice made act of presence and Martín had never heard it so soft. "Not really, I didn't know because you never told me about the times that you were feeling bad"

"And you realize I have feelings too just now, after years of being friends, after everything we've been through"

"Martín" both intertwined looks. "Remember that I was always busy with something, if not the next robbery-

"It was in one of your wives, yes, I already have it clear" He finished what Andrés had begun to recite and rose from the bed leaving the glass of wine on the nightstand. "You don't need to explain it to me, it was already clear that you cared more about fucking than hanging out with me, more than taking the time to listen to me"

Martin wondered how they had gone from being incredibly good to being incredibly bad in a matter of minutes in the room.

"It's not my fault that you were so bitter to find someone to be with"

Beautiful, beautiful was the pool of blood that seemed to form on the carpet because of his injured heart leaking and slowly disappearing at every word.

"Now you think you're a cupid? You never asked yourself why you had 5 divorces, Andrés?!"

"It's easy to talk about love when you have never experienced it" Martín furiously approached him to grab him by the sack and lift him from the bed after hearing that.

Andres' eyes were no longer transparent like two crystals, now they were black as the bottom of the sea and when looking at them carefully, Martín felt that he was drowning.

"You have no idea"

His voice was so small.

"I have no idea? I have no idea of the countless times you went to bars to get drunk? Of course I know, the times Sergio had to go looking for you because you disappeared for days, you went out partying to appear unconscious on the street like an abandoned dog"

Martín's hands weakened in a thousandth of a second, releasing Andrés's jacket. "You have no idea" he repeated looking at the ground.

Andres took him by the shoulders. "Look at me" Martín did.

"Do you think I liked seeing you like that? Do you think I never tried to ask you about your feelings? I did, but you always avoided the question or you were too drunk to form a sentence"

"Are you implying that I'm a fucking alcoholic?" Martin pushed away from the hot touch of his hands and walked to the door. "If you don't know the reasons I had to behave in that way, then don't speak as if you did"

With that, he opened the door and left, feeling his heart pounding like a hammer. Eager to cry, to scream.

It seemed stupid, that all this had happened in a few minutes, that it only took a few minutes to send everything overboard.

The house seemed to be closing on Martin, suffocating him. When he went outside, the sound of the music and the laughter that he said he hated were now friendly and felt like a breath of air. What would have happened if Martín had not go looking for him, was all he could think of.

It was as if his feet were moving on their own to Helsinki, approaching the laughing man watching the others dance.

Martín snatched the beer bottle from his hand smiling and the Serbian looked at him curiously. "That's mine, Palermo"

He took a drink and approached dangerously feeling Helsinki tense up. "Didn't they teach you how to share?" He whispered giving the sexiest voice he could.

Helsinki looked at him with bright eyes.

"Teach me to dance, fatty"

**•••**

"Palermo, Palermo you are drunk"

Helsinki 's voice was heard as a distant echo that soon slipped between Martin's lips, hot, red from friction. He kissed him as if he was going to find solace in the man.

Martin's arms hugging his neck and that memory reproducing in his head in a loop without return.

_"Martín, I want to introduce you to Tatiana"_

_Martin left the cup of tea to get up from the table and gave a false smile, the same one that he put on every time Andrés brought a new woman to the monastery. Normally then they disappeared for weeks in which Martín was alone and thought of packing his things and finally leaving, but no, of course he didn't leave. Because Andrés always returned to him to seek his comforting affection after another divorce. And this marriage would be the same._

_"Tatiana, this is Martín, the one I told you so much about"_

_She looked at him and took off her sunglasses. "Nice to meet you, Martín" She greet him with a soft kiss on the cheek and he reciprocated._

_"The pleasure is mine" He smiled and Andres' hand positioned on Tatiana's waist._

Martin let out a soft groan on Helsinki lips at the so destructive memory, he remembered how many tears he shed that night.

He felt the wood of the door crash against his back and without turning he opened it knowing it was his room. Maybe he was drunk but his senses were not failing him.

"Palermo" He repeated again.

"Helsinki please, I need it please ..."

His eyes were watery, not knowing if the reason was for memories, the drunkenness.

Or if it was because the man in front of him was not Andrés.

_"She is very beautiful"_

_He murmured smiling as he washed the dishes they had previously dined on. Andrés smiled widely._

_"I know" He said leaning on the counter looking at Martin. "I'm going to propose to her, tomorrow when we go on a trip"_

_Martin almost dropped a plate to the ground, to a shaky destination where it would break into a thousand pieces._

_The engineer couldn't hide his surprise as well as he hid his sadness. "Marriage. Travel. Wow" He managed to mumble._

_Andres watched him. "I will take her to Paris and there I will propose to her"_

_"How romantic, I hope she says yes, if she doesn't, you already know that I am available for you" he joked winking._

_Andrés's laughter filled every hole in Martín's heart and his hand felt soft on his shoulder. "If I find out that you didn't sleep with anyone while I'm gone, I will be very disappointed"_

_It was what Martín always did, because he couldn't find another way to satisfy what Andrés satisfied in him. It was his way of not falling into depression like the first time Andrés married, that time it was the hardest hit and then he realized that he didn't have to suffer for love, he was already old for that._

_And so he learned to live with it._

Helsinki understood that he really needed it and couldn't be more grateful to him. He closed his eyes as strong arms lifted him up, carrying him to the bed. Releasing a soft sigh as he felt the smooth surface against his back and the weight of Helsinki on him. "If you don't like it tell me to stop" He whispered in his ear.

Martín nodded knowing that he wouldn't want to stop. Still with his eyes closed, he felt warm hands slip under his dark shirt, lifting it to reveal his chest. A small moan escaped his lips from the kisses deposited on the skin that was being uncovered, his hand danced on the other man's back. His thoughts were foolishly scrambled, floating in alcohol.

Letting out small sounds, letting the hands caress him. He felt his pants being pulled down.

So soft.. so soft...

Slow..

_"Slow, slow... And... stop right there"_

_Andres' hands uncovered the eyes of his future fiancée and Martín smiled at the look on her face when she saw the plane tickets in front of her._

_"Oh my god, Andres" she exclaimed and hugged him immediately to kiss him. Martín felt like turning and leaving. "Paris? Really?" She squealed with excitement and Andrés was smiling so radiantly that it looked like he was going to blind someone._

_Martín clapped when they kissed again. "I'm very happy for you guys, and you better bring me a souvenir from Paris" He said when they separated and they both smiled widely at him._

_"What if you come with us?" Tatiana questioned and Martin had more than enough reasons to scream._

_"B-but let's see, it's something of you and I think I would be very involved in your relationship, I wouldn't like to bother"_

_"You don't bother! Come on, say yes, we are going to have a great time!"_

_Martin looked at her without knowing what to say and then he looked at Andrés, realizing that it wasn't what he had in mind._

_"Look, Tatiana, darling.. I'm sorry but I can't, I don't want to interfere" He approached and smiled warmly at her. The woman was different from the other wives who had been with Andrés, she was always kind and never treated him badly or excluded him._

_The fact that Martín was in love with her future husband had nothing to do with her and it was not her fault._

_"Okay" she replied smiling at him in the same way with a little sadness in her eyes._

_"Are you leaving today?" Martín asked without knowing if he wanted it to be a yes or a no._

_"It is a bit late so maybe it's better to leave early tomorrow so we have time to pack now" Andres replied, stroking Tatiana's waist. "Is that alright, love?" She gave him a smile with a nod._

_The night before the day Andrés and Tatiana were leaving, Martin would not be able to sleep. Basically because the couple would have the amazing idea of having sex thinking that Martin was already asleep. But he wasn't._

_The monastery was silent and all that was heard were deep breaths, and the surprising fact that Tatiana didn't moan like a bitch in heat, at least not like the other wives. She was silent, she made a few sounds from time to time and then Martín's heart skipped a beat when he heard Andrés groan._

_Looking at the ceiling, he was between two options, going to a bar so he didn't listen to that._

_Or listen to it._

_Another moan, and another, and another._

He didn't want to open his eyes, he wanted to let himself be carried away in the darkness of the caresses, in the depth of Helsinki's mouth, in his tongue moving over the head of his dick, along with the memory of what he did that night. Something that had never felt so good and so bad at the same time. So alive and so dead.

_"Andres .." He whispered closing his eyes and before him, nothingness presented itself with courtesy. Only the small sounds, the sighs, the grunts of Andrés accompanied him. He licked his lips as they felt dry and he lowered his hand down his body until he came across his sleep pants. Sneaking his hand inside. He hated the way he was behaving, like a hormone teenager. And he decided that the blame would fall on Andres' shoulders because it was easier than facing that he was touching himself with something like that._

_Easier than dealing with shame._

_Was he doing it on purpose? He kept thinking, he felt Andrés was making fun of him thinking about how pathetic he was._

_With his free hand, he kept his shirt up while feeling like he was walking on the clouds with the other._

_He felt heat all over, his face, his neck, his chest. The heat reached his very heart, burning him._

_Martín wanted to look Andrés in the eyes and see his face of absolute satisfaction, of doom, of the moment when he falls into the abyss. He wanted to take him by the face and say "I want to go to Paris with you, I want to die in Paris with you" His body trembled with anticipation._

_The sounds on the other side of the wall became faster, more agitated, Martín wanted to cry and he cried. Making the pillow wet with his tears feeling the pleasure hitting him like a mallet and the sadness caressing him like a feather in the wind._

_Silence flooded the monastery once more, and Martin hugged the pillow feeling his abdomen stained with his ecstasy, like a painting of the Renaissance. He felt defeated inside and out. Soul and body._

_Then as he cried on the softness of the pillow he thought._

_"I will never learn to hate you"_

And he was right, because even when he was sleeping with the Serbian, he thought about the painter. Talented, intelligent, dangerous, beautiful...

Martin was lost, so lost.

With glassy eyes he looked down to meet Helsinki's gaze. "Give it to me now, please," he begged in a whisper.

He looked at him and dried the tears that had begun to fall down his cheeks, the touch was so delicate that Martin wanted to get out of bed and tell him to leave.

He turned instead, hiding his face in the pillow as if he wanted to hide from the memories.

"Don't be soft, please I need you to fuck me hard"

Take away the pain.

And there it was, even when Helsinki didn't want to do it, he did it for him.

Martín believed the day Andres left with Tatiana, that the beautiful city of love would take away the only thing that ever mattered to him. Maybe it did, but somehow, Andrés returned to his arms 3 years later with another divorce on the list.

He didn't know what had been worse, if the fact that Andrés had left an incredible woman or that Martín even after 3 years, still forgave him. Tatiana and Martín were similar, because they both loved Andres and they both lost their wings for him.

It was when he understood that his destiny in life was to suffer for the same person, over and over again. That he was there to be used.

When the orgasm washed over him, Helsinki left him alone in his room with a soft caress on his cheek. Like saying "I know you're broken."

And he was.

That night he cried again, asking himself what he did to deserve such a beautiful but painful future. He wondered what would have happened if he accepted Tatiana's request to accompany them to Paris. Maybe he would have found another love there, maybe he could have been happy.

But after so many thoughts, Martín always came to the same conclusion.

His true love is where Andres is.


	4. Birds of paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kinda a mess, Andres pov (I guess you can call it that) and more flashbacks! A little of fluff to fix all the angst of chapter 3 <3

The words that escaped from his mouth a couple of minutes ago had been nothing but true but for Martín they had been like knives that pierced him. An Incredible edge that cut him from the inside as if he was silk. Like a kids doll.

Andrés felt the instant guilt, something he never felt in his entire life and he asked himself many things, among those, he asked himself why.

The moment his friend left his room, he sat back down on the bed to look at the glass Martin left on the nightstand, the red liquid almost glowing before his eyes. He could even feel his hands stained with blood, just as red as the wine, as if he had truly bled from the pain the words caused him.

And while listening to the music of the party, Andrés let his mind take a few steps into the memory of that day.

_The beautiful breeze sneaked through the clothes and made the trees move to the beat, that day Martín looked incredibly happy as they both walked through the streets of Berlin._

_Walking around there felt like a dream, the wonderful tourist places there were, the monuments, the museums. Just as Paris is the city of love, Berlin is the city of art and Martin believed that there was no person more passionate about art than Andres de Fonollosa. The man himself insisted that they had to travel to the city together and spend as long as necessary there._

_The night presented itself calmly and the stars were shining spectacularly, radiant in the sky that looked so special because it would soon give a warm welcome to an event just as special._

_"This place is wonderful, I could live here forever"_

_Martín laughed leaning on the balcony railing at the comment of the painter who observed everything at his side, people looked small from there, worried about their own lives like nothing else mattered._

_"You know you can do it if you want" In a few seconds a cigarette was locked between his lips, he didn't smoke very often but it didn't hurt to do it once in a while._

_Andrés directed his eyes at him, watching as Martin looked for something to light it with. "Let me find a lighter" With that said he went inside and took the one that was in the kitchen, going out again in a matter of seconds._

_Maybe he was imagining things but Andrés was behaving differently today. Of course Martin was not complaining at all, how could he when his attention was all on him?._

_Andres protected it from the wind with his hand as Martín approached, watching the tip of the cigarette light up when it collided with the flame. Once it was lit enough, Andrés put the lighter in the pocket of his pants. They returned to their previous position but the distance between their bodies was less._   
_Martín released the smoke after taking a long drag, the fact that he could tell the difference between smoking cheap cigarettes and expensive cigarettes was incredible, these were the moments when he realized how his life changed so drastically after meeting Andrés._

_"Do you want to share it with me? I'm not much of smoking a whole one by myself."_

_He took a drag of it again and passed it to him, his fingers barely touched and Martín observed how the cigarette looked perfect between Andrés' lips, the elegant way he had of smoking and sincerely Martín was delighted because never in his life did he imagine seeing someone make smoking look so poetic._

_And so there they were, sharing a cigarette that was more expensive than the watch on Martin's wrist._

_Something that both adored from each other was the comfortable silence that used to form between them, always at the right times. Never less, never more. Sometimes they spoke in that silence, asking questions between sighs and small whispers and then falling into another silence. Other times none said anything, simply because it wasn't necessary._

_While Andrés' eyes were closed, Martín's were open and soon they crystallized like two diamonds, his mind spinning like a carousel, there was something he didn't say all day since they had arrived and it was eating him inside out. He told himself that over the hours, the minutes it would evaporate in the air and disappear forever from his mind. That maybe he would forget the moment he saw Andrés' smile while they looked at the museums and toured the city._

_But it did not evaporate, not a single bit._

_He broke the silence with a whisper. "Why did you bring me with you?" His voice quiet._

_Why me?_

_It took him a second to understand, half a second to realize what the reason was. Because Andrés felt lonely, because Andrés always needs someone by his side, because Andrés is not Andrés without someone at his feet. Without someone to look him in the eyes as if he was a god._

_Andrés. Andrés. Andrés, it's always Andrés._

_"Because it's your birthday, Martín"_

_A shooting star crossed the sky and reflected in his blue eyes._

_"It's 12 pm, October 25" He raised the sleeve of his jacket a little to show Martin his wristwatch._

_"You see it?" Andres watches him expectantly when he sees that his friend was in a kind of trance._

_And yes he was, Martín felt that his heart had rejuvenated thirty years and that thought that tormented him so much secretly throughout the day, had evaporated._

_"You remembered my birthday"_

_"And why do you think we are here?"_

_Martín felt the tears that threatened to come out but struggled to keep them inside. "I thought that-_

_"That we had come here because I felt like it, yes, I know what you think, you were all day with that hint of concern that I hate so much in you because it doesn't suits you"_

_Just as he loved when Andrés was silent, he also loved when he spoke. Martín could hear him speak forever with the same infinite passion, like a light that would never fade. "Sometimes you're an idiot, didn't you think it was a good idea to tell me? I spent the whole damn day thinking that you're an egoist who only thinks of himself"_

_"I am but not so much as to forget your birthday, you also know how much I love surprises" The side smile slowly formed on his lips, seeing how the emotions flew around Martín, as his eyes were more blue than usual. And that fascinated him, the way his friend could feel everything so alive and full of passion._

_"Shit, Andrés... Is my birthday present living in Berlin?" He released the air he had been holding and laughed softly, denying the mere thought that the man had done something like that just for him._

_"Of course not, your gift is more than just living here" His hand went to his pants pocket and took out a small card. "The biggest jewelry store in the city awaits our triumphal entry"_

_Martín grabbed it to read it, it was the typical advertising card. "Tomorrow night we could steal the place together, you and I, can you think of a better birthday present than this?"_

_The engineer sometimes felt that it was impossible for him to refuse Andrés' madness, but this time fear overcame love. "Andrés... do you forget what happened the last time we stole? In Valencia?" He questioned. "They almost killed you"_

_"But they didn't" His gaze was intense, as if he wanted to make Martin understand just with his eyes "It's an opportunity, you should never miss an opportunity and you know it"_

_"I don't think it's a good idea"_

_"Martin-_

_"That place must be full of police officers, here is not the same as Spain"_

_"I've been thinking about it and I even have someone to help us"_

_"If you want to steal it so much then go alone because I don't plan to see how they kill you"_

_"Martin" he whispered and cupped his face to look him in the eye. "I can't do it without you"_

_He couldn't help the small smile on his lips as he felt Andres's warm hands on his face, he looked at the card with gold details on the edges and sighed. "Maybe"_

_Andrés smiled "Is that a yes?"_

_Martin rolled his eyes and nodded "I knew it, I knew you would say yes" He smiled wider and placed a kiss on Martin's cheek to enter the apartment again. "Let's celebrate!"_

_Martin denied smiling to follow him, trying not to blush due to the sudden affection that exploded from Andrés._

  
-

That night they were talking until the clock reached 2 in the morning and Andres had never felt in such a good mood before, the fact of having someone to talk to about anything made his mind really try hard to understand.

To understand Martín Berrote.

He was complex and yet simple, a personality that was explosive but also controlled. And that, that was what Andrés appreciated so much about him, not just his honesty and intelligence. But also everything that Martin meant in soul and body kept him down to earth in some way.

So that's when Andrés remembered how the conversation went.

\-----

  
_It felt like he had lost track of time, floating in a perfect dream where it was them against the world. As it always should have been._

_"Andres" he muttered looking at the ceiling while he was lying on his bed and Andres looked at him from his own bed._

_Martín spoke quietly knowing that he was looking at him. Tears running down his face slowly._

_"I hate my parents, I don't even know where they are or if they are alive" The short laugh that escaped from his mouth only confirmed that the expensive champagne he had shared with his friend had affected him. "They ruined my life" he whispered and closed his eyes. His voice said everything, it was broken and even angry. The way Martin's mood changed from talking and laughing feeling dizzy, to.. this._

_Andrés let out a sigh to get up from the comfort in which he had sunk, approaching Martín. "Hey, I don't think that feeling like this on your birthday is good" Martín smiled sadly and opened his eyes when he felt a weight beside him. Andrés had lay down next to him, in his bed, because he wanted to, nobody forced him._

_He watched him, he was laying on his side with his attention on Martin. He was so close but so far from his touch, from him._

_"It may be just the champagne, sometimes alcohol brings out the worst in people" His voice so sweet and yet intoxicating, his eyes brown like the dry leaves of the trees in the fall, deep as the ocean itself, infinite._

_"Yes maybe"_

_Martín felt pathetic for saying only that, but he forgot it the second Andrés smiled, drying his tears with the sleeve of his shirt. He just wanted to take him by the face and kiss him, surrender to destiny, even knowing that it wouldn't be a pretty one._

_"You better sleep"_

_Martín observed his neck so perfect and defined, wanting to run his tongue over it, savor its skin and let Andrés' colony burn his tongue. The pain in his chest was getting sharper because he just felt like he was about to ruin everything. Martin changed his posture, now laying on his side too._

_He brought a trembling hand to Andrés' shoulder, almost letting out a sigh as he feels the soft material under his fingertips. He didn't dare look him in the eye because he felt that if he did, he would throw all his self-control out the window._

_"Sometimes... sometimes I feel so alone" He whispered._

_"Shh is fine, you are drunk and you should sleep, it's really late"_

_His hand went from Andrés's shoulder to the nape of his neck. "I'm not alone when you are .. when you are with me"_

_"Martin.." There it was, the warning._

_Finally he raised his gaze to meet Andrés' eyes, confused, sweet and bitter. "Sorry" He apologized without really knowing the reason._

_Martín felt like an idiot, maybe he was apologizing for that, for telling Andrés about his parents and that he feels lonely. He apologized for being so fragile._

_"I said okay, calm down, I can even hear your head running at top speed non-stop" Andrés' low tone of voice reassured him at one point. "Just breathe and stop crying, I never saw someone cry so much on their birthday when it's just starting"_

_Martín laughed releasing Andrés's neck and drying the tears in his face with his hands. The heat almost brushing his skin reminded him that his friend's body was lying a short distance away, a reminder of the situation so he wouldn't lose his path._

_"Tell me about something you like, we have known each other for 4 years and sometimes I feel like I don't know you at all" And Andrés didn't lie._

_Martín lay on his back again and closed his eyes feeling how Andres did the same. "I like engineering, I like dogs and-_

_"Something I don't already know" Andrés interrupted, he just wanted to distract him, make him think of something else that wouldn't make him cry._

_Martín looked at him to sigh and close his eyes again. "I really like flowers," he whispered after a few long seconds._

_"What kind of flowers?"_

_"They all have a meaning but there is one in particular that is my favorite, it's called birds of paradise"_

_"And what is its meaning?"_

_"Freedom and joy"_

_"You like it a lot" Andrés opened his eyes to look at Martín who also opened them, looking at the ceiling._

_"I like it because it reminds me of what I could never have"_

  
Andres got up from the bed, that trip to the past gave him the best answer, a gift. He walked to his easel and chose a canvas that was neither so big nor so small.

After all, painting was a form of expression, of saying what you don't know how to say in words. A perfect occasion to use his favorite hobby as an answer to the problem.

And so Andres painted the birds of paradise in their maximum splendor as if it were his best painting. Deep down he knew it was.

Because it was for Martín.

The colors were vivid and his hand moved with determination, dipping the fine brush in water and then taking pigment to give the final details. The party had already come to an end once the painting was finished and he stood up pulling it off the easel to watch it for a few seconds. It was really wonderful, the flower really conveyed the feeling of freedom and happiness just as it should, as Martín said.

  
_"You have never been free? Happy?"_

  
He left his room, the corridors were so serene and silent that Andrés could swear the house looked abandoned. He almost laughed at the thought.

Martín's room was a bit far from his, so he walked for a while with the small painting in his hands, taking care not to touch it since it was still kinda wet. He knew that Martin didn't sleep at the same time as everyone, he knew that he would find him awake reading some book or writing, when he arrived he stopped dead in front of the door instead, his hand almost about to hit the wood.

Among the deep silence, Andrés managed to hear muffled sounds, sounds of pleasure. His arm fell to his side slowly.

He stared blankly at the door, in a couple of seconds he was away from there. He couldn't think, or rather didn't know what to think, he was blank.

  
_"Well.. now I am"_

  
The birds of paradise flew away aimlessly, like Andrés, they moved away from something they didn't want to witness. He felt strange, new, he was delighted at such thing because he felt something deep in his chest, like flowers that grew without stopping wanting to leave his body.

Once he closed the door to his room his hands began to tremble, he observed the time and went to the easel to leave the painting that now felt nothing more than paint on a canvas, for some reason it had lost the freedom and happiness that was supposed to generate, it was no longer there.

He sat on the bed and took the small bag from the nightstand containing his medicines and the needle. That secret that he hides from everyone except his brother, that secret that was withering him in life and was digging the hole of his own grave, for each breath a minute less contemplating the beauty of all things.

Andrés wasn't afraid of death, of course not, anyway everyone dies in the end and he was no exception, only that some people have the opportunity to live and not know that they will die in months, and that, that makes them feel immortal, it makes them feel as if they will live for the rest of eternity being a brilliant and invincible light.

When the needle buried itself in his skin, he watched the medicine enter his system as he applied it, Andrés wondered how Martín managed to forget about a fight so easily and it seemed wonderful to him, in fact he was so happy for his friend. Maybe Martin should apologize and fix this before the mint heist starts.

He had treated him a little bad when all Andres did was worry about him, Martín just turned around and left to have sex with who knows who in the band instead of talking to him and face the fact that Andrés was right.  
The first thing that came to his mind was the Serbian because he wasn't a fool and he realized how he looked at his friend.

He lay in bed after taking a shower, the miraculous shower he liked to call it, because everything went down the drain and he was a new man once he got out of it.

In bed he found himself staring at the ceiling, and surprisingly he didn't fall asleep until five o'clock in the morning when his brain shut down completely.

Andrés de Fonollosa, a man who is dying and yet feels so alive, oh how wonderful can it be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck Andrés, all my homies hate Andrés.
> 
> (fr he thinks that he's right on everything)
> 
> anyways let me know what you guys think about this chapter! kudos and comments are so appreciated <3

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this is going, but if anyone has any suggestions on what could happen next, I would be very happy to read it! uwu
> 
> Thank you for reading and you can find me on twitter as @royalberlermo 💕


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